


I've seen fire, I've seen rain

by missfortunesirprize



Series: Brimstone [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Medical Examination, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-27 16:58:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7626604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missfortunesirprize/pseuds/missfortunesirprize
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first memory he has is of the base.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've seen fire, I've seen rain

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing.

The first memory he has is of the base. First of the cold room where they kept him, hooked up to machines to monitor everything about him, and then the bare room they gave him to sleep in, and of the training room. The training room is the one that haunts him the most, waking him up in the night to scream when he feels the phantom needles piercing his skin and the intense cold as they test the limits of what he can do. 

The cold stays with him for days afterwards, drilling right down to his bones, and the waves of heat he generates to keep it away burns away most of his skin. He grew up thinking that the world was made up of hard metal tables and rough concrete under his bare skin, the pain of the needles and the comforting yellow and red glow of the lava running underneath his skin. He's too unstable, they say, too young to use right now, and then they stick him full of needles and watch as he writhes on the floor and blazes like he's made of the fire that he creates and manipulates. Other than the emotionless faces of his tormentors and the disembodied voices of his captors, he never comes into contact with another person like him, or any person at all. His food is given to him through his door, delivered through the hatch at the bottom, and when they need him, there's never anyone else around to ask for help. He isn't even sure how hold he is, really, can't even look at himself and see what he looks like because they keep him carefully away from anything that could be used as a weapon, or something he could use to hurt himself. He's sheltered, is what he's getting at. The base is all he's ever known, until it's not. The door shudders, shaking in it's anchors. He doesn't move towards it, doesn't dare when he's being watched, this is just another test. They just want you to make a mistake so they can hurt you again. They'll stick needles in you again. "There's someone in here." A whirring sound fills his ears, from the other side of the door, and he flinches back when the door blows off and slams into the wall opposite him, burning around the edges and warped in places. 

"Hey, kid. What's your name?" There's a man made of metal crouching down in front of him. "Kid?" He flicks his eyes up to the camera, pointed right at them, and then up to the slits in the man's face. Tiny scratches run along the surface, like scars, and there's drops of blood scattered across the right side like garish freckles against the gold. "It's alright, we're going to get you out of here, but you gotta tell me your name?" Thoughts spring to the front of his mind, a handful of moments when he's heard his true name, but it's a test, this is just a test and they're watching you, play along or they'll hurt you, so he opens his mouth and says "The asset is only the asset." There's a dangerous pause, a mechanical arm stopping in mid-air, inches from his shoulder, and he inches down away from it before it retracts and the robotic voice fills the air again. "Hey, Cap? You might want Barnes to come down here."


End file.
